From the recording About Time

In cart Not available Out of stock


Made my way into Chicago, IL
Coming back from some tour in Hell
My God it feels so good to be home again

Times are tough babe and that’s a fact
Nothing I own but this shirt on my back
The plane ride home left me little
money to spend

But I got me a bottle
and a place where I can stay
Just a simple place to hang my head and tomorrow I’ll be on my way

But a man woke me in my sleep
The lines on his face were dark and deep
He’d come to take what little I had left

I said, “please sir won’t you pay some mind
There’s nothing here, nothing for you to find”
But he couldn’t care less about
what I had to say

So I fought for my life
with flailing arms and kicking feet
I killed a man with my bare hands that night and I left him dead in the street

Now I’m wanted in Chicago
Nowhere to run and nowhere to go
I think I’ll leave here tomorrow
And find a safer place somewhere down the road

Running scared and so I hitched a ride
Headed south down the I55
And I made my way down into New Orleans

I think I might just lay low for a while
Try to avoid my name on trial
Cause it feels so good just to
live in one place again

So I got me a job and a roof over my head
Even found me a nice young lady to share the covers of my bed

I’m still wanted in Chicago
Calling out my name on the radio.
I saw my momma on a TV Show
And now I know I can never go back home

It was late one night and my throat was dry
I headed out under those southern skies
And found a place where a man could get a drink

I met a man who was just like me
He’d spent a spell on his hands and knees
Fighting just to get back up again

So I told him my story about
about the life that I had led
I finished my drink, said my goodbyes,
and I stumbled back home to bed

I awoke in the middle of the night
The man I had met was sitting right by my side
Tears fell like rain from his eyes

He said, “you don’t know me do you boy?
I had a brother who lived in Illinois.
He was killed last year by a man they never found”.

And before I could even speak
He shoved a knife into my chest
Well it’s true that what goes around – comes around I guess

Now I’m still wanted in Chicago
They’ll never find me this I know
Here I lay six feet down below
Never forget you reap just what you sew